


Remind Me Why I Belong To You

by KliqzAngel



Series: Make Me Want You.  Want You to Make Me. [8]
Category: Leverage RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Dark fic, Dom!Jared, Dom/sub, M/M, Sub!Christian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:58:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6028615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KliqzAngel/pseuds/KliqzAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Collar</p>
<p>A ring is not the only sign of commitment, and it isn’t the only sign of forgiveness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remind Me Why I Belong To You

**Author's Note:**

> This series will be darker than what I usually write. All but one story came out in first person POV, which I don’t write much so I hope it came out alright. This is for an old prompt challenge over at Jared Chris on Livejournal.
> 
> This was written by someone (me) without experience in this type of relationship. I did do research, and speak with friends who do have experience in this world. I tried my best to be true to this type of relationship and not get too far out over my skis. I do understand abuse and BDSM are NOT the same thing. I tried very hard to make sure that while both are discussed in this series along with self destructive tendencies, that there was a difference.
> 
> Please no throwing stones. I won't enjoy it, and the series is old enough it won't change anything.

His body was stretched the length of the bed. His body glistening with sweat as blue eyes stared intensely at his mate, teeth digging into the ball in his mouth. His hands wrapped tightly around the binds used to tie him to the headboard in an attempt not to yank or pull, knowing such an act would not be looked upon favorably. He wanted to arch, he wanted to flex, he wanted more, but his body was stretched so he couldn’t move an inch. He wanted. He wanted to touch, he wanted to bite and lick and scream and rage, but more than all that he wanted to submit.

He wanted this more than he wanted all the rest, and his partner knew it. He knew exactly how far to push and where to strike and when it was really over. He knew Christian better than Christian knew himself even if he would never admit it. 

In public people looked at them and assumed Chris was the strong one. Chris was the one in charge. Chris made all the decisions. 

Even their friends assumed he was the one in control. 

The collar should have told them different. 

The collar should have been their sign, but like always they wrote it off. Brushed it under the rug assuming things they thought they knew and ignoring the things that they had no clue about. 

A well placed strike of the whip brought him back to the present. He’d been bad. He’d let his mind wander, and now he would pay for his transgression. He could see it in those eyes burning down at him that he wasn’t happy. So, it began. The punishment, the reminder, and the lesson he wasn’t likely to forget soon. At least not until the next time that he needed this when the world got to be too much and he couldn’t function anymore. When the rules were too hard and the decisions were too big and the people depending on him to be at his best were too demanding, too unforgiving for simple human mistakes.

A slap here, a strike there, and through it all a low deep drawl setting his nerve endings on fire making him want to cry. 

He always knew. He always knew what he needed most. He knew what Christian needed in every second they were together and even when they weren’t together. He was in charge of it all. The collar said so even if no one else understood. He was in charge and Christian wouldn’t survive if he ever took that away. 

He wanted to whimper, please. The eyes biting with anger and arrogance only moments before, hours before, a life time before were now broken, aching, pleading. The body stretched to its limits shook painfully as everything broke inside of him letting out all the crap he had shoved inside and refused to let him deal with, even if he knew better. Letting his ego, his coworkers, his family, the thousands of people who really knew nothing about him but demanded his every free moment and often those that weren’t free forget who he was, what he was, made him forget where it was he belonged.

He didn’t question when the bindings were removed, didn’t ask when he was curled up into large strong arms. He only knew the pain that was pouring out, the frustrations he was letting loose, he only knew that everything hurt, and that he was making it better. That voice now whispering in his ear, soothing, calming, comforting, giving him all the things he needed and was still afraid to ask for.

He wasn’t Christian Fucking Kane. He wasn’t Elliot fucking Spencer. He remembered now that he was just his, that this was where he belonged, that this was where he was loved and cherished and treasured. He remembered that this was where he was understood. He remembered that this was where he wanted to be. 

When he woke the covers where pulled to his chin. Wounds had been cleaned and treated, toys and bindings stored for later. His fingers slipped up and touched the collar returned now that he deserved it again. Now that he remembered and was determined that he wouldn’t again forget.

But if he did, it would be ok, because he would make it ok. 

Jay always made everything ok. It was his duty. It was his responsibility.

And the collar said so.

The End!

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of several older fics that I have decided to post to AO3. They've resided for years on my personal archive, but I am thinking of getting rid of it. I want to make sure some of them are posted here. So, if you think you read this or some others I am posting over the next few days somewhere before... you probably have. They were also posted on LiveJournal.


End file.
